The Challenge for Africa (19 page)

Nonetheless, if I had to do it again, I would try to find a way to compensate those who served on the locational and sub-locational committees for their time, even if it were only a small amount. Indeed, the government later decided that those participating at the sub-locational level would receive an allowance for travel and expenses.

Nationally, the CDF encountered other difficulties. Most MPs decided to work with only the committee of fifteen people the CDF required at the constituency level, and in a number of cases they appointed friends or political cronies as members. Kenyan journalists began reporting on CDF shortcomings: some MPs had shown nepotism in managing the CDF and had used funds for pet projects and in parts of the constituency they preferred, without giving the citizens a real voice. Indeed, the new Tetu MP who replaced me after I lost the election in 2007 abandoned my methodology. He picked his own committee of fifteen for the constituency as a whole≔ the locational and sub-locational committees are no more. I received reports that my constituents were not happy about this≔ they had appreciated the devolved power and had owned the process. Regrettably, they do not seem to have had the courage to demand its continued application and to push their leaders to embrace good governance.

By the time I left office, the CDF had resulted in a number of concrete projects that will have a positive impact on my former constituents' development prospects. Nearly half of the
funds were directed to education—to secondary school scholarships for more than six hundred students, and support for the building or refurbishment of classrooms, science laboratories, and dormitories at schools, as well as at local vocational schools. The communities also chose to invest CDF funds in repairing and expanding health centers and dispensaries, as well as providing them with upgraded equipment, throughout the constituencies.

An irrigation project was also initiated and a number of miles of pipes were laid. Electricity was provided to more than a hundred homesteads, as well as to schools, churches, a dispensary, and a tea-trading center. Funds also supported the repair and maintenance of roads, the construction of a community hall, and improved facilities for police and local officials, designed to enhance the services communities received from them. In addition, storage and collection capacities at local coffee factories were expanded, and funds were apportioned for youth projects, including the development of microenterprises and environmental conservation initiatives.

What was particularly pleasing in the implementation of the CDF in Tetu was that the multilayered structure helped minimize the risk of corruption. At a moment when I was feeling disappointed by the number of people who were willing to cheat and take advantage of others, a colleague encouraged me by sharing information to the effect that in any society, a quarter of the population is honest, a quarter is dishonest, and the remaining half can be persuaded either way. For corruption to be curtailed, open and transparent systems are essential. The better the systems and the better the institutions in place, the more likely it is that the 50 percent of the population will join the 25 percent who are honest.

In Tetu's case, the constituency committee routinely monitored and evaluated the progress of the committees at the locational and sub-locational levels, and would submit written
progress reports to my constituency office, which had a full-time coordinator on staff. That said, I cannot be sure that nothing untoward took place. Opportunities for price gouging on supplies for projects, such as water pipes, existed, and in one case the price paid for a certain grade of pipe seemed high.

What I wanted to create was a system for use of the CDF funds that was transparent, accountable, and highly participatory. In forming the multilayered approach, I tried to establish a structure that would enshrine the constituency priorities, no matter who represented Tetu in parliament. Before the end of my term as MP, I gathered together the fifteen members of the constituency-level committee with the fifteen people who represented each of the thirty-seven sub-locations—nearly six hundred people in all—to produce a strategic plan for Tetu for the next five years. Under the guidance of a trained facilitator, the assembly developed a set of concrete priorities for education, agriculture, health, water, electricity, tourism, and the environment. With the plan completed, no one would have to ask the people of Tetu:
What do you want?
Although I don't have my parliamentary seat, my former constituents do have the strategic plan, and it's a good one. It is my hope that they—the people who created it—will implement it.

Other countries, including South Africa and Nigeria, are now looking at adopting the CDF model. When Uganda introduced it in 2005, no system was put in place to provide for stringent oversight of the funds. Most MPs didn't account for their spending, much to the dismay of the national government and the MPs' constituents. Such safeguards are vital to ensure that MPs who misuse money are exposed, that citizens have a means to report corruption, and that implementation of all CDF-funded projects is monitored closely.

In spite of the teething problems and shortcomings of the various CDF models, I hope that the idea spreads, and that efforts are made to improve upon it. The CDF is truly an
African solution to an African problem, dependent on the budget of the government and not an international agency, and on the active participation and leadership of local communities rather than international experts. Essentially, the CDF represents a partnership that has been all too rare in Africa: between the people and their leadership against poverty and passivity.

The CDF process aside, there were other encouraging signs of the development of grassroots leadership: for instance, in the fight against the devastation of HIV/AIDS and the stigma that so often clings to people who are HIV positive. While serving as an MP, I tried to respond to the needs of people living with HIV/AIDS in Tetu and also promoted voluntary testing for my constituents.

MPs are encouraged in their constituency work to partner with local government ministries as well as local NGOs. Therefore, I requested that the Green Belt Movement, which had many groups active in the Nyeri area, provide the financial resources to rehabilitate an existing building next to my constituency office to create the first Voluntary Counseling and Testing (VCT) center in Tetu. As with the CDF projects, the actual construction was completed by local artisans. The ministry of health and the NGO People Living with HIV/AIDS (PLWHA) supplemented these efforts: the ministry of health provided a staff person to provide counseling and testing; the Green Belt Movement employed an assistant for him; and PLWHA organized counselors to come and speak to people in the constituency about how to live positively and responsibly with HIV/AIDS, and how to protect their partners from infection. Once the center was established, it was vital to encourage people in Tetu to be tested.

It was during these efforts that I met a young woman who had lost her husband to AIDS. Although her two children were HIV free, she herself was HIV positive, but she refused to live in the self-imposed exile that many of those living with HIV/AIDS adopt. Each constituency in Kenya had a government-mandated Constituency AIDS Control Committee; this woman became a very frequent attendee at meetings of the committee, and eventually I learned her story. She proved to be very creative, innovative, and motivated, and she needed a job.

So the Green Belt Movement employed her as a support person for people living with HIV/AIDS. With the assistance of my local constituency office, this woman played a major role in organizing other HIV-positive men, women, and children to come out of the isolation of their homes, to which many had retreated after receiving a positive diagnosis. Due in large measure to her work, many of these people are now caring for and encouraging themselves and others.

Once the VCT was established, a monthly assembly was organized there to support those living with HIV/AIDS. They prayed and sang together, gave personal testimonies—descriptions of experiences of rejection or acceptance—and talked about how they were living responsibly, or not. They learned to open up to the pain, anger, and frustration they were experiencing. Sometimes a priest would come to offer spiritual encouragement to those who felt they were living in the shadow of death. Gatherings of children and youth—some of whom were orphans, some of whom were HIV positive, and some of whom were both—were also organized at the center. Constituents felt it was important for young people to learn how to protect themselves, live positively, and look forward.

The soils in the Central Highlands are highly suited to growing vegetables. The Green Belt Movement introduced a campaign to encourage people living with HIV/AIDS to establish kitchen gardens, so they could include more health-promoting
foods, especially green vegetables, in their diets. Since Tetu's economy is heavily dependent on cash crops, most people no longer grow food, but, rather, buy it in the market. For those who are poor and are weakened by HIV/AIDS, a vicious cycle can develop, in which they don't have food but can't go to the market, either because they are too sick or because they cannot afford to buy the food, since they are no longer working.

GBM provided an extension service to assist people in doing this, using a method that produced, organically, a good amount of produce within a small area right near their homes. Individuals were provided with seeds and training, and, given the increase in the supply of nutritious food, many of them improved in health. Even though a number of those participating were in a weakened state, it was encouraging to see them growing their own food—since before the campaign, people had locked themselves inside their houses, waiting to die. Now they were outside in the fresh air, talking with neighbors, and feeling more confident about the future: living positively.

In other ways, however, the old culture of underdevelopment, corruption, and modes of inadequate leadership remained a challenge. How much so was brought home by the plight of small-scale coffee growers in my constituency. Shortly after the end of the Vietnam War, the Vietnamese government sent emissaries to Kenya to study how to expand its coffee industry. Kenya, in addition to having some of the best coffee in the world, conducts research in developing high-yield and disease-resistant varieties of coffee. The Vietnamese not only bought different strains of Kenyan coffee, but they invited some Kenyan coffee experts to Vietnam. In the twenty years since it began in earnest, the Vietnamese coffee industry has grown so
large that it not only has outstripped many traditional coffee-producing countries, such as Indonesia, Colombia, and Ethiopia, but also has overtaken Kenya to become, after Brazil, the world's second-largest exporter of coffee.

Because coffee is a commodity, it is subject to speculation on international markets, and thus growing or selling it is a very risky business. If the market for the product collapses, whether due to political instability or overproduction, farmers can end up with nothing. On a large scale, the whole country suffers; on a local level, entire communities and families go hungry because the farmers are growing either crops to feed people and animals in other countries or commodities such as coffee. Some are not growing food crops at all (as is the case with many coffee farmers). Since the developed world has stacked current international trade rules against developing countries by levying large duties on their exports while flooding their markets with cheap imports, poorer societies are at a major disadvantage when it comes to commodity crops like coffee.

Despite my considerable reservations about the wisdom of pursuing a cash-crop-based economy, I nevertheless felt it was incumbent upon me as an MP to do what I could to enable local businesses to survive, especially as my constituency had many coffee growers and it was clear that a market for Kenyan coffee existed. To that end, I encouraged some German businessmen to take an interest in Tetu's coffee. It was they who told me about the thriving coffee industry in Vietnam, and that the average Vietnamese coffee farmer regularly returns a considerable profit on his crop. Naturally, with high margins, the farmer works very hard! In addition, the Vietnamese government supports the coffee industry and ensures not only that coffee producers find international buyers for their product, but also that the farmers are able to keep their commitments and maintain the quality and quantity buyers are looking for. This consistency
means that the farmers both retain and expand their customer base.

Coffee and tea are the base of the economy in the Central Highlands, and therefore were supposed to be the major income earners for most people in Tetu. However, as I discovered, Kenya's small-scale coffee farmers, who form the great majority of the industry, had numerous obstacles confronting them, in addition to relying on an uncertain crop for their primary means of income. I learned that a great deal of corruption existed at the factories, where the farmers delivered the coffee and where the beans were partly processed. This corruption pervaded the management, the procurement of inputs such as fertilizers, and the loans and advances the factories made to the farmers against expected earnings. The farmer could neither negotiate the price for the inputs nor, of course, determine the price his coffee would be sold at in local and international markets.

Further up the levels of management, overheads and processing and marketing fees were extremely high, while there was corruption in the cooperative movement itself. Income from the sale of the coffee was received and processed in the centralized bureaucracies of the Coffee Board of Kenya and the Kenya Planters Cooperative Union (PCU), and then distributed to the farmers without their involvement.

This left the farmer with no possibility of negotiating how much should be deducted from the sale price by the bureaucracy, whether for research, or payments to and allowances of the board members of both bodies. In some cases, management had the audacity to inform farmers that they
owed
the factories money and should borrow funds to clear their loans! The farmer, with the government's sanction, had been turned into a virtual serf; even though he owned the land, he received a pittance for his labor. And he didn't even own the coffee; indeed,
as a cash crop, the coffee bushes were considered the property of the government. Due to a colonial-era law, still in place, farmers who dared to cut coffee or tea bushes risked being arrested and charged with an offense.